Broken
by WhenLightGreetsDark
Summary: "And into the brink of insanity she flew; a darkness only she could see. A dream-like world of pain and torment. Of spilled blood and salted tears. A thousand nights of restless sleep. And she, Annie Cresta, vowed to pull herself out of its reach. For she had a light to fight for," Annie from her Reaping to Mockingjay.
1. Wishing For No Promises

**Hi everyone! This is going to be my main fanfic for a while, so I'm going to try to do it to the best of my abitlities! Review whatever you want, I don't care. Critisism is appreciated as long as it's constructive! Thanks ^_^**

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**CHAPTER 1: Wishing for no Promise**

I swiftly run across the beach, my feet thumping the soft white sand, the sun beating on my neck. The water lapping at my feet.

I laugh, today is so beautiful - why does it have to be ruined so easily?

My white dress whips across my legs as I run, a soft breeze mussing up my already tangled dark locks. I slow down, reaching the sea. I sigh and walk in the salty water of my home, District 4. I duck my head under the water - when I get to the deep parts, of course - and start to swim underneath. This is a talent of mine. I can swim smoothly and strongly, holding my breath for copious amounts of time.

Taking a deep breath of the salty air, I make my way to my home. I live in a small cottage near the beach. We are a lower class to middle class family. We have to work very very hard to make ends meet. We scrape by, and we save a penny each month in case we need it. And by need it, I mean the Hunger Games. In case one of us is picked.

Opening the door, I see my Mama holding my little sister. She's crying - this is her first Reaping.

"Hey, Bubba. It's alright. It goes by quickly, you'll see. Faster than you think. You won't get picked, I promise you. You're name's only in there once! It's practicaly impossible," I say to her, passing a short roll of white tissue. Her name is Laina, and she is the complete opposite of me. She has short blonde locks, with blue eyes, beautiful pink lips and porcelain skin. A doll, she is. Or that's what she looks like - I've been told by the richer kids. But to me, she is only Laina. My little 12-year-old sister.

"But what if I do?" She sniffs, widening her eyes at me.

"I'll volunteer for you,"

"I won't let you," A small fierce look settles in her eyes, "I'll get the Peacekeepers to tell you to not volunteer. I'll get them to hold you back. If I am chosen. But you won't volunteer. Promise me. If I am picked, you won't volunteer?"

I look hard at her. This is be a hard choice, because I don't think I would be able to stand it if she is picked. "I promise,"

* * *

We are bundled into the square, taken to little sections. I lose Laina in the crowd, but I know, in my heart, that she is fine. She's strong, unlike me.

I hold myself up as Saelia Bell struts on stage. On the chairs next to hers, are Mayor Nisbett's, Mags, and Finnick. Nisbett's eyes are rolling and he looks bored, Finnick's face is white, but he looks as confident as he can on stage. At the moment he's 17 - 3 years after he won the 65th Hunger Games. He won by recieving a trident from his lovers in the Capitol as a sponsor gift - all because he is handsome. Mags plays with a flower in her hands. She's a lovely old lady who buys shells from me at the market.

I hold my breath and close my eyes. My feet are bare on the rough, sandy stone. My white-ish dress has dried now and is whipping with the breeze. My hair flows around in a tangled mess, creating a whirlwind of dark hair around my head. My sea-green eyes trained on Saelia as she call out to us, "Welcome," she says.

"Welcome, welcome, to the 68th Hunger Games! My my, what a lovely turnout!" She chirps, eyeing us all, "As you know, the time has come to select one couragous man and woman for the honour of representing District 4 in this year's Annual Hunger Games! Good luck, and May the Odds be _ever _in your favour. Ladies first!"

Placing her pink talloned hand in the bowl of glass, containing 1000's of girls names, I find Laina in the crowd. She's pale, and is clutching her hands tightly. I catch her eye and smile encouragingly at her. She turns away.

I understand her completely. She's being strong for now. And when another girl's name is called she'll sigh in relief - as will I.

Out comes a slip of paper, a small piece of paper, filled with a girl's name. A girl's name that is witten in a small narrow transcript. Unfolding the piece, Saelia brings her mouth to the microphone.

"Laina Cresta," She smiles.

My breath catches as I hear those two words. I start to cry, my little baby sister. My small little sister who I _promised_ wouldn't get picked for these games, who I _promised _I wouldn't volunteer for, who I _promised_ it was nearly _impossible_ for her to get picked. The Hunger Games. I want to run up there, I want to volunteer but my promise is too fresh in my mind. And a quick glance from Laina proves it. I'm not going to be able to volunteer for my Bubba. My Laina.

She is taken up to the stage. So strong. I glance over to my parents. Papa is holding Mama in his arms. They are weeping, bitterly, for the loss. Because, I know, as well as they know, that Laina might not get back. But we have to hope.

* * *

The rest of the Reaping flies by, flies so quickly. People give my family their condolences, their sympathies. I nod and tell them it's okay, she'll get back. But inside I am screaming.

I go to the Justice Building to say goodbye. She's sitting on a plush couch, crying and quiet. Two things I have rarely seen of her.

I rush into her arms, "Darling, Bubba, it's going to be okay. We'll try to get you out - I... all the money we saved up will go to you. We'll sponsor you, we'll get you out," I whisper into her ear. She clutches me tightly.

"It was my first year, Annie. It was my first year," she weeps, I snuggle my head in her hair.

"I know, I know," I hug her tightly, not saying a word, until the Peacekeepers come.

"Be safe, Laina! You can win this! You can do it! Kill, Laina, it's all you can do!" I scream as the Peacekeepers pull me out, "I love you, Laina!"

And I can swear her voice whispering to me in the fancy room. "I love you too,"

* * *

The Games began less than a week later. During the times I couldn't watch them, I trapped myself in my room. I barely ate anything. My sister was in the Hunger Games - how could I?!

I watched as my sister took her first kill. It was the D7 boy - self-defense. But she wasn't the same in the Games since. She was touchy with a temper and would be so angry all the time. She would cry at night and be be furious during the day. She was as skinny as a twig, barely ate anything apart from what the sponsors gave her.

And she was scared - oh so scared, as was us. Her family, her friends. She was so brave. She'd made it past, she'd made it through a good bit. She was quite a fighter for a 12 year-old. She made it to Number Seven.

But then, the axe came.

She was sitting in her little sleeping bag, when it happened. Awoken by the D3 girl, she struggled to fight her. With the spear Laina had, she fought for hours. No rest. Until, finally, she gave up.

The axe swung at her, piercing her belly-area. It was deep, oh-so-deep, and we knew she wouldn't survive. D3 walked away, and we were left heartbroken.

She lay, bleeding on the ground, my sister, my best friend. The little girl I taught how to swim, how to catch fish. How to steer a boat. How to collect shells.

This was the girl I had grown up with. Dying. On the ground of a hill. In the middle of an Arena.

"No." I say, sitting up from the couch, "No. She can't be dying. No,"

Mama reaches out for me, tears streaming down her face. I fall to the ground, my eyes are streaming. The pain is horrid, I watch as my little sister slowly fades from life.

"I LOVE YOU, LAINA!" I scream, at the television, where she can't hear me."Please don't die. Please don't die. Come on, you can get through. Win these Games for us, Laina, you can do it. Laina. Laina, please,"

I am crying on the ground when I hear the bang of a cannon on the TV set. Laina is dead. Laina is dead. My best friend is dead. My sister is dead.

This girl, this girl was - is - my life. She was everything I had, that I felt was really mine. And I was hers. She's dead. Another girl killed her.

She's dead.

I run out my house. I can't take it any more. I run to the sea, I run to the calming ocean. I let myself roll into the beauties of the water.

I let it wash my emotions away. Because, my sister is dead. And there is nothing I can do. "SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!" I scream, "MY LITTLE SISTER ISN'T COMING BACK. SHE'S GONE. SHE'S GONE! She's gone, she's gone. She's dead. She's gone. I love you Laina. I love you. Please hear me. I love you. I love you,"

And this is the chant that brings me to my house. She loves me, I love her. But she is gone, and there is no coming back.

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**Soo, what do you think? One of my best stories so far, I have to say! Please, Read, Review please? Thank you! ^.^**

**~Tasha**


	2. Unfortune

**HEY EVERYONE :D :D :D**

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**CHAPTER 2: Unfortune**

It's been 2 years since my sister came home in a wooden coffin. 2 years since my sister was taken away from me.

Papa died at sea last year. He drowned, and my Mama and I were devastated. Two losses within the space of a year.

The Reaping last year gave me the creeps. Everyone stared at me, but I glared back. My name wasn't said - thank goodness - but it was a girl I knew when I was younger. Her name was Anna. She lost, unfortunately, and I cried a little when I found out.

Now, I am standing in place at the Reaping for this year. All I had to do was get through this one, then the next and I was free. Safe, forever. I'm 17, and I don't think I ever was - or will be - the same when my sister ... went away.

My Reaping dress covers me nicely. It is white with a few greying parts to it. It is frayed, but I love it. It was my own mother's Reaping dress. I've worn it all these years, and I feel bad because Laina never got to appreciate it at her Reaping. So I try to cherish it. I play with the thread sticking out from the hem.

My hands are sweaty in the afternoon sun. The crowds make it very hot - even more so than the sun. The crowds chatter away to each other.

Something pokes me in the shoulder. "You okay?"

It is Evan Whitehill. A boy a year above me in school. He's the type of person who smiles at you, whoever you are. The kind one. That would describe him, perfectly.

I offer him a weak smile, "I suppose. No one's really okay at the Reaping now, are they? It's hard, though. Very. But I get through it,"

"I'l be here if you need someone," He says before facing the stage again. I tuck my tangled hair behind my ears and wait for Saelia to come on stage.

"Welcome everyone! To another exciting Hunger Games! It has come, now, to select another brave man and woman to represen District 4 in the Annual Hunger Games!" Saelia grins. I shudder inwardly. Exciting my butt.

"Now, to tradition. Ladies first!"

Dipping her hand in the bowl I find myself staring into the arms of Deja Vous. I shake my head, clearing it. I feel sorry for the poor girl going into the Games. Because chances are, she won't come out.

Saelia takes out the tiny piece of paper and takes what feels like forever unwrapping it. Her green lips move forward to the microphone - much much too close, and whisper the girl's name into it.

"Annie Cresta,"

A hushed gasp fills the District. I close my eyes, willing myself to be as strong as Laina was. As strong as I can be.

I hear a wail of grief. It is Mama. She is crying, very hard into a stranger's shoulder. I understand. 3 people, gone, in the space of a year.

I walk forward, stiffly and controlledly. My hands are clenched into fists. I will someone to volunteer for me. Oh please, volunteer for me. Haven't my family suffered enough?

The crowd parts like the red sea around me. Some are crying others are simply sighing in relief because they weren't picked. I take deep, calming breaths.

Finally, in what feels like an age, I reach the stage. Climbing up, I look at the vast amount of the District 4 people. My mother continues to sob, uncontrollably.

"And now, for the boys!" Salia says, walking to the boys bowl. In drops her carefully manicured hands, and she pulls out the boys name.

"Evan Whitehill!" She shouts. My face pales considerably and I seriously consider throwing up.

He climbs onstage and smiles, ruefully. Oh no. I'm definitely not going to win. Evan is a true Career. Strong muscles, very good with weapons. He's a good swimmer, too.

And he is quite handsome and that always dishes out the sponsors. Evan's a nice boy, kind to everyone. But who knows what he'll be like in the Arena? The Arena always changes people. If he gets out alive, he won't be the same. And he may go crazy, with a bloodlust. It's happened before. But I know, if it comes down to the two of us, I have to kill him. But I don't think I can do it, evn if I do make it. It's highly unlikely I'd EVER get that far. I'd probably die in the bloodbath. But where I'd always fantasized going, what it would be like, if I'd actually kill...

Well, I'm going to find out. I'm going into the Arena.

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**THANK YOU :D :D ~Tasha**


	3. More Promises I Could Break

**Hey everyone! I don't care if I don't get reviews - it's the writing that counts!  
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**CHAPTER 3: More Promises I Could Break**

After the Reaping is over, Evan and I are rushed into the Justice Building. We give each other a quick nod before we seperate to different rooms.

The Justice Building is extremely fancy, with plush couches, fancy vases filled with exotic flowers. It's all from the Capitol.

Soon, my Mama is ushered into the room by the Peacekeepers. Weeping, she cuddles me close to her breast. She's warm and she smells like the sea, and a little of the pansies that grow wildly along the wall by the beach. I start to sob into her, while she rubs my back soothingly.

"Darling, come out. Promise me. Promise me, no matter what, even if you have to... to kill every last person in that Arena, that you'll get out. And not in a wooden coffin. Alive. Promise me!" She's shaking me now, "Promise me, sweetheart!"

"I promise," I whisper. And I'll keep it. Or, I'll try anyway. I just don't want to see my Mama suffer anymore. "I love you,"

"No," She says, shaking her head. Yes, I do, Mama! "No goodbyes. I'll see you in a few weeks time. Here. In District 4."

I nod. Soon, all too soon, the Peacekeepers come, and I'm hugging my Mama and we're both crying and I love her, so much.

"I love you Mama!" I scream to her, "I love you!"

And I hear her screaming it back, before the room is completely and utterly silent. All I can hear are the sounds of my own deep breathing.

No one else will come to visit me, I think bitterly. And I amn't disappointed. I never made any friends. It was just me and Laina against the world. And now she's gone, I'm more alone than ever.

Quickly, I rub my face free from tears. I comb my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle the mess that it is, to no avail. If I want to win, I'll have to actually try. For the Capitol, I have to look pretty and do well in training. I don't know how I'll get a good score though, I can use a spear and tie knots. And I can swim. But that's it. Everyone in District 4 can do them - it's part of your training to become a fisherman.

The Peacekeepers come when my hour is up, taking me to the train station.

Reporters are there with cameras flashing in my face, I smile weakly before boarding the train. It's fancier than the Justice Building. And THAT'S saying something.

It's very blue and green. I think it must be to do with the whole sea / District 4 thing. It's a little over the limit, but I can't complain.

Saelia ushers Evan and I to the main dining room. "This is where you will have your food," She smiles at us, "And here..."

We follow her further down the train, "Is where you will sleep!"

She shows us two doors, one for Evan's room and one for mine. I smile again and hurry into it, briefly turning to say goodbye.

The room is larger than my house. It's huge. I sigh, a smile fluttering at my lips. If I'm gong to die - and let's face it, chances are I will - I at least get to live in luxury. And too right. I shudder al the thought of my siser being in the same position as me. I wonder if she thought the same thoughts. I wonder if she was afraid.

Yes. Of course she was. Everyone is.

Even if our District is a Career one. No, Laina Cresta was afraid. And so am I.

Lying on the soft bed, I struggle to stay awake. Of course, I haven't been physically strained, but I have been emotionally drained. And that's worse.

The quilt is soft. The pillows smell like ... I don't know. It's sweet and spicy. It's nice, but I don't know the word for it. It makes me want to close my eyes and drift off. It's a beautiful scent..

Begrudgingly, I heave myself off the wondrous cloud of softness, and drag myself to the cupboard. In it, I find millions upon millions of clothes, skirts and trousers, shirts and dresses for _any _occasion.

I settle for a pair of simple black trousers and a blue t-shirt. I find a small piece of rope in the pocket of my dress. I didn't even realise I had the piece of rope. It's half woven, hardly of any worth. But then I realise it is the rope from my first Reaping, I used it to calm myself. I hold the roughness up to my cheek and breathe in deeply. The scent of salt fills my nose. It reminds me so much of home. This will be my token.

I wear nothing on my feet. It's hardly unusual to me. Shoes are rarely worn in District 4, except for the wealthy, when we go rock hunting or when we have to go to school. An even then, it's sandals we wear.

I find a woolen shawl in the back of the wardrobe. I have to push myself past all the Capitol clothes to find it. I don't even know what I was looking for exactly. But there, on the floor it was. Ragged and closely woven.

It was Laina's.

* * *

Mama had woven it for her on her first Reaping. I remember being jealous of her, because _I _had never been given anything like that before. But, I hadn't realised then that she was going to die.

I clutch it to myself. The sudden wave of grief and sadness and upset hits me like a tonne of bricks. It forces me to my knees. It forces the tears from my eyes. It forces me to feel each and very pain I have ever felt, over and over again.

It hurts.

The sharp knock of the door awakens me from it all. I look up, realising I must look a mess. But I really am past caring.

"Come in," I whisper in a voice even I can barely hear. In the person comes and I'm given the fright of my life when I see one of my Mentors, Finnick Odair, standing in my doorway.

"Hey, you alright?" He says. It doesn't look as if he cares anyway.

"I'm fine," I say, wrapping the shawl around me and standing up. I know my eyes are puffy and red, I know I am a mess both physically and emotionally and for Gods' sake, I'm not even in the Games yet!

Hiccupping, I stare him in the eye.

"What do you want, Finnick?" I say tiredly. I notice his face blanches.

"Wh - where did you find that?" He says, looking at the shawl pointedly.

"It was... my sisters. She died in the Games 2 years ago," I narrow my eyes at him. I'm not answering any more questions about the matter. I just want to know why the hell he's in my room!

"Little Laina? Laina Cresta?" He sits on the end of my bed, face in his hands.

"Yes. Yes, she was." The sadness hits me again. I fall to the floor. "I wish she hadn't died. I really do. I really do. My Mama.. she's been through so much. Now I'm here and I amn't getting out and - " I suddenly stop. Why am I telling all this to virtually a stranger?

"Why are you here anyway?" I ask, looking up from the floor.

Finnick stands from the bed, looks at me with _pity _then walks to the doorway. Turning around he says, "Dinner," then walks out, leaving the door wide open and me an emotional wreck.

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**So what do you guys think? Good, bad? Let me know! :D :D ~Tasha**


	4. Confidence I Never Had

**HEY! Me again :3 Thanks for the reviews!**

**To Songwriter16: Thank you! It means so so much to me! :D :D (::) Cookies galore to you for being my first reviewer!**

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**CHAPTER 4: Confidence I Never Had**

After Finnick had left, I picked myself off the floor and vowed to never break down again. Another promise. I make a lot. And most have to be broken.

Making my way down to the Dining Carriage, I breathe in deeply. I left the shawl lying underneath my pillow. Shawls are quite common in District 4. Probably because they are easy to make, cheap and they keep you slightly warm. Hugging my shoulders I walk in through the doors.

"Aah! Look, Annie dear. We saved a seat for you!" Saelia smiles at me. Weakly returning her favour, I take a place at the table. Before me are hundreds of smells coming from pots and pans and other dishes. Closing my eyes, I take a deep whiff. Is that orange I smell? It's beautiful.

A servant (well, that's what it seems to me) places our first 'course' in front of us. It's a fishy smell, and I sigh inwardly. Fish. Really, Capitol? The fish thing is getting old.

However, I am surprised by the taste. Now, I have had my fair taste of fish in my life, but this? This is so good, and it smells wonderful. It is a fish and muscle soup. It is slightly salty but blends in nicely with the whole stock. I eat my bowlful, and I am still hungry. But I know there is more to come. There is always more food to come in the Capitol.

I hear a mumble of talking next to me. "...yes, but the fire's will keep you _warm _-"

"What?" I interrupt. I know it is rude, and I almost start to cry when I realise my Mama would've given me a row if I'd interrupted at home, but I need to know. I suppose I am nosy, but I prefer to go by merely curious.

"Oh, just survival tactic's," Evan grins, "Old Finnick's telling me about some of the things I should do or not do in the arena,"

"And why wasn't I included? After all, if I'm going to die in the Arena, I want to at least get as far as possible so my name doesn't go down in shame," I snap. Evan looks taken aback.

"Well, you looked to engrossed in your stew, we didn't want to interrupt," Finnick replies coolly. I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks but before I can reply Saelia jumps in.

"Now, now. Don't fight. The Games aren't for another few days. You have time," She chirps. Forever happy, I really want to throttle this woman. She's so naive and air-headed. Most Capitol people are like that.

"Yes, but I'd rather get more information now. I don't exactly _want _to die," I say, folding my arms, glaring at Finnick. For some reason, I feel like it's his fault. His confidence, his calm demeanour. It makes me so angry, and I hate feeling this way.

"Fine," He says shortly. "We were talking about fires. What do _you_ think?"

"I think they are a very good source of light and warmth. We should definitely look into how to make them," I say, twisting the tablecloth in my hands.

"Yes, but _when _could you use them, hm?" Finnick replies, sitting his head on the tips of his fingers, and staring at me coolly.

"Uh, at night. When it's cold,"

"But won't the Careers find you?"

"I - I am a Career," I say, quite unconfidently. Finnick gives a short laugh, sitting back in the chair. It creaks. Still smiling.

"You? A Career? You won't last five minutes in that Arena. You're too -"

"Enough," I see a little old woman at the end of the table. Mags, her name is. She won one of the first Hunger Games'. She's intelligent and sweet. She's been through a lot - has mentored decades of kids. "Finnick, why don't you take her back to her room and _apologise _for what you have said?"

"But -"

"I mean it. Now." And that was the end of the conversation. Finnick stands and without a backwards glance walks out the room, leaving me befuddled. Second time this evening he's walked out on me.

Angrily, I storm up and follow him. _How dare he? _I think angrily. _He knows I'm going to be dead in a few days time._

He doesn't have to tell me.

* * *

I see him standing outside my door. I hurriedly walk and stand in front of him.

"Why did you say that? We both know I'll be dead. Don't make fun of that fact. I want my last few days to be memorable. NOT filled with an arrogant Finnick Odair," And with that, I slam my door behind me, leaving him standing by my door, dumbfounded.

Closing my eyes, I reach my dressing table. I look like a mess, my hair is entangled - no different - my eyes are puffy and my clothes, crumpled. I wonder what my sister would say to me at this moment. Keep going, I think.

Maybe I can do this. Maybe I can get out. The chances are extremely low - 1/24. But maybe my mentor, whichever one they are, can help me get out of that hellhole.

I interrupt myself from my daydreams. I need to focus. Rubbing away whatever was once on my face, I make my way to the dining room once again. Everyone has finished up, and I'm still hungry. It doesn't matter though, I can order something later when I am in my room.

"Ah, there you are!" Saelia says, "Just in time too. We're just about to watch the recap of the Reapings!"

"Yay. This'll be fun," I say sarcastically, "I'm getting to watch the people that will either kill me or I them,"

Finnick chuckles under his hand. Shooting him a glare, I take my place on the couch. The television is clear, Capitol quality. I can see the tributes as though they are really in front of me.

I try to focus on all the tributes. It's hard, as some of them are so forgettable. Pure, blood-bath material - like me.

District One have a Volunteer and someone who rejects their Volunteer. The female, Glisten, is short but thick and has a dumb yet agressive look on her face. She folds her arms and looks at everyone as though they are below her. The male, Linen, was the volunteer and is tall, yet slightly weedy. When they shake hands he squeezes tightly making Glisten wince. He doesn't look very smart either. Equally as stupid as the other, these two will be very dangerous.

District 2 have two volunteers. Being the richest District, I expected nothing less. The females name is Tabitha. Tall, cunning and muscled, she looks like someone to watch out for. The male, Will is fair with dark hair and eyes. A wicked gleam fills his face as he looks at the crowd. They are not to be trusted.

District 3 are the mehanical geniuses. Pale and light, they aren't much physically. But inside their heads is a computer waiting to be unleashed. They don't usually make it past the bloodbaths, but if they do.. you better watch out.

Now is our District. When my name is called, my face goes visibly whiter. You can hear my mother screech in the background, and my face suddenly sets itself. A look of sheer determination crosses it, one that I didn't even realise I made. I walk up to stage and it looks as though I am... bored. Yes, bored. No terror. Nothing.

This is good. Very good. It makes it look as though the whole idea of the Games doesn't faze me. I am confident. I can do this.

The rest of the Reapings goes quite well. Evan gets called up. He looks okay. A slight surprise, but otherwise his actions are good. In the replay, we look like Careers. We _are _Careers.

The boy from 10 is small but ruthless looking. Cunning and sly. Intelligent. The girl from 8 is tall, and well-muscelled for a poor District girl. Her eyes are untrustworthy.

And a 12 year-old boy from 6. He's small. And weedy. And he won't last a day.

"Well, wasn't that exciting!" Saelia says, jumping up. JUMPING!

"I'd watch out for the other Careers," Finnick says. "Stupid, but dangerous,"

I find myself nodding, because as much as I hate to disagree with him, he's right. "And the District 10 boy, John I think his name was. He's smart,"

"I agree," Evan says, nodding. He stands too, and heads for the direction of his room. "I'm going to bed now, we're going to be arriving in the Capitol in the morning, yes?"

"Mhmm," Is the short reply of Saelia.

"I'm going to go to bed too. Big day tomorrow," I quickly walk out of the carriage and into my tiny little room.

I quickly change into a scratchy nightgown, and I hop into my bed.

The softness overwhelms me and I sink deep into the darkness of sleep. And I fall, out like a light.

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**Okay, thank you so much to my one reviewer Songwriter16! Or was it 96? No matter! THANK YOU! ~Tasha**


	5. The Chariots

**Thank you to Snowlitbutterfly for your review! READ ON MY MINIONS!**

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**CHAPTER 5: The Chariots**

I wake up to a rap on the door. "Wakey wakey, rise and shine!" Saelia calls through the door. Groaning, I turn my head over in the pillow. Subconsciously, I finger the woollen shawl. It brings me the comfort I need in these Games.

I drag myself out and head to my very own bathroom. I switch on lots of the buttons and I am drenched in smelly liquids, lotions and other cosmetics.

I smell strongly of the Capitol and when I come out, I am dried thoroughly.

When I reach my room, I find a note laying on my bed. _Sorry about last night -F._

I shake my head. I put on some clean clothes, plain. I like plain things. What's the use of fancy things? They're stupid.

Breakfast time.

"Ah, there she is!" Saelia winks at me. I take my place at the table. Wonderful selections of food meet my eyes. The smells are beautiful and my mouth waters just staring at them. Hungrily, I take some rolls, orange liquid (which Saelia calls 'orange juice'!) and some beef sausages. I have to say, by the time I'm finished, I am stuffed to the brim!

"So, we'll be arriving at the Capitol in an hours time! Best get yourselves ready!" She giggles, drinking the rest of her coffee in one huge gulp. I shudder. I dislike coffee immensely. Bitter and sour, with a horrible smell, it makes me shiver whenever I think about it. And it's highly addictive too. I once read it in a book back home. Tears fill my eyes as I think about my District. I think about my Mama. Will she miss me when I'm dead? Surely she must. I'm her last daughter. Her only relative who's alive.

It is then that I vow, that if I die, I will make it as painful and honourable as possible. So she can't see gore. She's lost too much. _I've_ lost too much.

I take in my breakfast companions. Evan is eating a roll filled with bacon an cheese. He has a glass of amber liquid, which I find out to be apple juice. Finnick isn't eating, but ripping the roll into 50 different pieces. Saelia is sitting primly with her utensils in her hands, her lips pursed. Mags sees me looking over at her, and grins. Her gummy mouth is toothless. She's such a sweet old lady. But her speech is incoherent unless you either know her well, or are from District 4. She must have once been beautiful, but age has taken it's toll.

I take another sip of orange juice. "Once we get to the Capitol, what do the Stylists do?" I ask.

"They make you beautiful," Saelia puts in, "So you can have sponsors,"

"But what if I don't want to be beautiful? What if I want to stay the way I am?" I say, crossing my arms across my chest. Saelia gapes at me, as if I've said something mortifying.

"But - but, you are so _plain_, my dear. Don't you want to look extravagently beautiful?" I want to say that dying yor skin and adding whiskers to your face isn't beautiful at all, but bite my tongue. No need to get her on the wrong side of me. After all, she could tell all her Capitol friends and they might not sponsor me and then I'd _know _I'm going to die.

"No thank you. I'm happy to be just the way I am,"

"Well, the Stylists will still have to prepare you - do your make-up, hair etcetera," she grins at me, "The Chariot's are tonight,"

"Oh, that reminds me!" Finnick exclaims suddenly, "Mags and I have been discussing who to Mentor,"

That takes my attention. I whip my head towards him. I hope to have Mags.

"Yes," Mags quips in.

"I've decided to Mentor Annie as she has... a smaller chance of winning. And since Evan is proper Career material, Mags will coach him. Okay?" Finnick says eyeing us both.

I nod, I'd have preferred Mags, but it's true. Mags is old but wise. And Finnick will be able to show me how to kill more easily. I don't want to, but I have to stay alive.

Evan excuses himself from the table and makes his way to his room. I follow shortly after.

Reaching my own room, I brush the rats nest of my hair. I stare into my reflection. I am by no means pretty. I am plain, weak. Easily forgettable. I have a pale face and shadows under my eyes from lack of sleep. My lips are crusty from all the nervous biting I have been doing lately and a small nose. My eyes are probably my best feature. Sea green with specks of white, dark green and brown, framed by dark lashes. My hair is dark and often messy and tangled. It falls to my upper arms, and often gets in the way.

I'm thin and not strong at all. I'm slighly smaller than average height, but I can hide and dodge well, because of my slight frame. I guess this will come handy in the Games.

I turn to sit on the Capitol bed. I place my head in my hands and let hot tears trickle down my cheeks. I'm not like Laina. I'm not strong. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. I'm not strong.

I don't think I can get through this.

Collecting my bearings, I creep into the bathroom and splash some water on my face. Great, now my face is blotchy.

Hiccupping slightly, I lie on my bed. I stare at the creamy white ceiling. It seems only a few moments before a knock on my door awakens me from my reverie.

"We're at the Capitol!" Saelia chirps through the door. The trains still going, I can feel it, but Saelia seems to want me to come to the window. I oblige, walking out my room. Tiredness consumes me, and I don't notice when I trip right over Finnick.

"Hey there. When I say, 'I hope to bump into you later,' I don't mean it literally!" He grins cockily at me. I blush red and stand back.

"Sorry," I say. Suddenly, the floor is more interesting.

"Don't worry. We all stumble sometimes," Then, he walks off and I rush to the windows to see the splendour of the Capitol.

And what a spectacle it is! It's colours oh so artificial, reds so bright they wound your eyes, greens nothing like the sea or grass back home. Blues, so flashy and full of colour, they look nothing like the sky. And the sky... filled with lights, you can barely see the beauty of clouds and birds. Do they have birds here in the Capitol? I suppose not. A nuisance they must be. Back home, we have the 'gulls squawking at us left right and centre.

The people are like living monsters. Brighter than the buildings that hug the sky. Tiger stripes, golden skin, whiskers, I even see a woman with tusks!

Is this fashion? This is horrific! Why would people do that to their own bodies?

But one girl I see around 10, she's different. I can tell. She's with her mother, who is scolding her chubby younger brother. But the girl is staring at me. And she's not like the other Capitol citizens. She has light brown hair, it could even be blonde. Her eyes - from what I can see - are grey. _Hauntingly grey_. And her mouth is downturned into a frown, unlike the others. She isn't corrupted. From what I can see, she hasn't got a single mark of the Capitol on her. She could be from one of the Districts.

Her clothes aren't bright, but nor are they normal. They still look expensive. She has chosen the most drab out of what must be her overflowing cupboard. A white dress and black shoes. Black and white and grey.

And I can see a sadness come out of her, staring at me in the eyes. She gives one sharp shake of her head and I know she mustn't approve of these Games. The rest of the Capitol buzz with excitement, but this little girl... she's not like them. And I love her for it. How hard it must be to keep from the corrupting ways of the Capitol?

Very.

And with that, the train comes to a halt.

* * *

I scrunch my eyes hard trying to stop them watering. The pad has made it's final destination and... "OUCH!"

"I'm so sorry, sweetpea!" A man named Bilnarnia says. He's orange. I'm not kidding. Everything I see of him is a neon shade of pure orange. His eyes, teeth. Clothes even his hair and skin! He has a habit of calling me 'sweetpea' alot.

"Why do you Districts have so much hair? It's disgusting! Do you have no care for your personal hygeine?" Starline snarls, staring at my now chicken-plucked body. It stings like hell.

"Well, we have no cause. We train, we work, we have a family. Who cares if you look good, only to work your whole life? It's a waste of time," I say and it seems to shock Bilnarnia, Starline and my other prep teamworker, Crissina.

"Why, that is a horrible way to live!" Crissina shrieks. She's got tusks. Small ones on her temples that are about an inch long. Her skin is yellow with red polka dots. She's odd, I can tell you. Starline lives up to her name sake, silver hair, skin and eyes. He fingernails have stars covering them.

Starline is the nail prep worker. As I look at her working, I see blue and white, and glitter all over my nails. They are shaped and curved and turned more beautiful than I have ever remembered. Crissina is the Hair Stylist, turning my hair into a something I have never seen before. There isn't a mirror in the room, so by the time they have finished I don't know what I look like. It's hot and Crissina uses some sort of metallic invention to do something to my hair. She's made it so it falls down one side.

Bilnarnia is the body-hair and make-up specialist and has taken hair from every. Single. Part of my body. His brushes tickle as the come into contact with my skin. He has sprinkled my legs and arms with blue and silver glitter. I don't know what he has done with my face.

Once I am scrubbed, polished and lathered in so many chemicals and cosmetics that I am extremely clean, my Prep team leave me and my Stylist comes in.

I'm naked and extremely uncomfortable, so I stare at the floor as she stares at every part of my body, assessing it. It's a woman, I can tell. She has brown, extremely curly hair, violet eyes and light blue skin. She has long nails that could probably take my eyes out if they came into contact with them and she is plump.

She takes my chin in her fingers and the dig slightly into my skin. I try not to wince.

"What is your name, child?" She asks, staring into my eyes a little weidly.

I let out a gasp, "Annie, Annie Cresta,"

Letting go, she hands me a robe, "You are very naturally pretty,"

I shake my head.

"Oh, but you are. And you are perfect for this costume," She holds a grey bag, "Now, close your eyes,"

I do so, and feel the material of the dress flow over me. It is silky and light and I love it already. It is comfortable. She quickly adjusts me.

"Now open,"

A mirror is set on the wall so I can see my reflection. I am beautiful and I am nothing like me.

What I see in front of me is a girl, a beautiful girl. With a long, silky, floor-length gown. It shimmers and sparkles like the sea. It's blue and had swirls of sea-green and white and whenever you move, it looks like the waves. There is a strap at one side and none at the other. My arms and legs, covered in glitter add to the effect. My eyes are dark and lips are blue. The shoes are flat -thank god!- and the whole outfit is light and comfortable. It truly is stunning.

"Thank you," I whisper. "It's beautiful."

I turn to her. "It reminds me of the sea back home," Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks, but I keep them in. I don't want to ruin all her hard work. It is then that I realise I don't know her name. I ask her.

"Violetta," She says, smiling deeply, "And I am glad you like it. You are going to knock 'em all dead,"

I wince at that statement. She doesn't notice at all and soon, Evan and his stylist, Genia, have met us at the bottom of the Remake Centre.

The Chariots are about to begin.

Our Stylists hold our hands as they help us onto the carriages. I am so nervous, a sweat breaks out on my head. Hastily wiping it away, I sigh in frustration. I hate these Games, I really do.

"You alright?" Evan says. He looks nervous too. I shake my head.

"Nope. You?" He grins at me.

"Definitely not!"

The front doors open, and the Opening music starts.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God. What are we meant to do, I-" Evan elbows me.

"We'll be okay. Just keep your head up, smile and wave. They'll love it," He says. District 1 slowly goes out, then 2. Then it's District 3.

Us.

Taking a deep breath, I hold my head up and smile my most dazzling smile. The crowds cheer as we all wave up at them. Those weird creatures. The Capitol throw roses and such at us. It's a good feeling to be appreciated. Not so much when it's these people.

Finally, 20 minutes later, the Chariots come to a hault inside the area of the Training Centre. Oh yay. More chance to make a full of myself, stupid training. I grin at Evan. We made it!

We hop off the Chariots and I am so happy it's unbelievable.

"That was amazing!" I say. I'm full of energy like a puppy. I'm practically jumping!

"Yeah, I guess it was!"

"You two were fantastic!" Finnick says, meeting up with us. "Nice outfits!"

Mags just nods at us and smiles her gummy smile.

I don't know why I'm this happy. It's nothing to _be _happy about. We're just closer to our deaths. But this moment is good. Because the energy and the happiness makes us feel good. And I'd rather my last days be full of times like this, than for them to be depressing.

So I'm going to snatch them while I can.

* * *

**So what do you think? Long chapter xD I don't know if the others will be as long as this, but we'll see. Hope you enjoy :D :D**

**~Tasha**


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